


Murder Husbands Need Therapy, Too

by house_of_lantis



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Lives, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bad Communication, Bad Psychiatry, Bad Sex, Biting, Bloodplay, Buffy/Angel shout out, Crack, Death, Do not repost my works without my express permission, Domestic, Good Sex, Gore, Happy Ending, I'm not kidding about the crackfic, Intimacy, M/M, Marital Issues, Murder, Murder Husbands, Not Canon Compliant, Past Infidelity, Relationship Problems, Rough Sex, Sass, Season 2 Rewrite, Sexual Dysfunction, Snark, Unethical Psychiatry, Unsafe Sex, crackfic, erotic sexual violence, it looks like dubcon but it is consentual, married, negotiation, not for Bedelia though, serial killers in love, sex therapy, so much crack, sorry bedelia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 08:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18028325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: Of all the things between Will and Hannibal that should be explored in therapy, it’s their dull sex life that takes priority.





	Murder Husbands Need Therapy, Too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akaVertigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaVertigo/gifts).



> Author’s Note: A few canonical lines were taken directly from the TV show, which belongs to the writers. Other lines were adapted to fit in with this particular story, but also attributed to the show’s writers. FYI. 
> 
> This Hannigram crack fic came to be when my friend akavertigo wondered why there wasn’t enough sex therapist fics in Hannigram fandom. So blame her for this crack offering to the fandom. It was all her idea, I’m just writing it. And to the Hannigram HQ Discord server members for encouraging this crack insanity. Enjoy.

“Can you...go a little more to the right?” 

 

“Such as this?” 

 

Will squeezed his eyes shut and tried to relax his muscles, tilting his hips slightly, trying to find the best angle. He threw one leg over Hannibal’s shoulder, trying to find a good position. No matter how many times they’d tried to fuck, it always felt like Will was being poked by a large, fat eggplant. Hannibal was a doctor for God’s sake; did he not know how to find Will’s prostate? Will was pretty sure he had a normal, perfectly healthy prostate. He had fingered himself enough times and gotten off plenty good on his own. He just couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t get off with his husband. 

 

“Okay, try it again and go a little faster. No! Slower! Slower, go slower. Ow!” 

 

Will pulled his legs down and put his feet on the bed next to Hannibal’s hips. 

 

Hannibal sighed, pressing a soft kiss to Will’s sweaty forehead. “Perhaps we could--” 

 

“I’m not hard anymore,” he said, turning his head to the side. He didn’t bother to hide his flinch when he felt Hannibal’s softening cock slip out of him. 

 

“I could still give you pleasure, Will.” 

 

Will clenched his teeth when he felt Hannibal’s large hand curl around his cock. He considered it for just a moment, thinking that Hannibal owed him something, but then felt the dull ache of his overly stretched muscles and the lube in his ass and the overwhelming urge to punch Hannibal in his face -- it was probably better to just leave it alone for now. 

 

“Let’s just...get some sleep,” he said, trying to be kind. “We both have to be up early anyway.” 

 

“My first appointment is at eleven o’clock.” 

 

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of setting up their own schedules,” he said, a little harsher than he intended. Maybe. 

 

“Will, are you thoroughly displeased with me? I know that our sexual activities have not always been fulfilling, but I feel that you--” 

 

Will laughed, a little indignant. “Jesus, Hannibal, can we not do the psychoanalyzing while we’re in bed? You promised.” 

 

“And I always keep my promises.” 

 

Will turned on his side, mostly to avoid having to meet Hannibal’s eyes and seeing his disappointment, and grabbed Hannibal’s hand, pulling him down to the bed behind him. He wriggled until his back was pressed against Hannibal’s chest. 

 

“Just sleep, Hannibal,” he said, finally relaxing against the warmth of Hannibal’s strong body. “We can talk about it later.” 

 

Or never. 

 

“Goodnight, Will,” Hannibal said, pressing his nose into Will’s hair and kissing the back of his neck. “Happy anniversary.” 

 

“Yeah, uh, you too.” 

 

*** 

 

People told Will that the third year of marriage was the hardest. The first year of marriage was still the obvious honeymoon phase; the second year of marriage was both partners being on their best behavior, carefully showing only their best parts to each other; but it was the third year of marriage where people’s true selves showed through the cracks of the marriage veil and when partners made the decision that they could live with the character weaknesses of their partners. 

 

Will and Hannibal were only in their first year of marriage, but they already knew each other and saw each other clearly. Maybe the problem was  _ too clearly _ . Will knew all of Hannibal’s secrets. He knew what was in Hannibal’s basement abattoir. He knew what, _ or who _ , was served on his plate. 

 

And then there was Abigail. 

 

He knew that he was changing their lives, the night that he arrived at Hannibal’s house to find Abigail alive. He knew Jack was on his way to confront Hannibal; and Will wasn’t going to let anyone take away his family. He came clean about everything and watched as different emotions fluttered across Hannibal’s face -- fury, bitterness, despair, hope, love. There was a good chance that Will had narrowly avoided getting sliced open by the Ripper. 

 

_ “We can run away,” she said, tearfully.  _

 

_ “I have made a place for all three of us,” Hannibal told him, longingly.  _

 

_ Will shook his head. “They still don’t have any proof. And if we run, we look guilty. Did you clean the basement?”  _

 

_ “Yes.”  _

 

_ “Then it’s Jack’s word against ours,” Will said, determinedly. “And right now, Jack is violating a number of your Constitutional Rights. If he comes into this house, then you’re going to leverage your wealth and sic all of your lawyers on the FBI and Jack to get them to back the fuck off. Do you understand?”  _

 

_ Hannibal put his knife down and looked like he was going to pass out from absolute joy. “Yes, Will.”  _

 

Hannibal did sic his legion of lawyers, a group of scarily competent and ruthless lawyers from a Los Angeles law firm called Wolfram & Hart, on the FBI and he received a formal letter of apology. The FBI would bother them no more. 

 

_ “You know that old joke about how lawyers sell their souls to the devil? I think they have.”  _

 

_ Hannibal smiled at Will, completely charmed. “Few have gone up against them and come out unscathed.”  _

 

_ “Yeah, the head boss of that law firm is a fucking bloodsucker.”  _

 

Will couldn’t ever repair his relationship with Jack, but he figured it was for the best. Given the choice, Will wanted his family more than anything else. He was glad to know that Jack was forced into early retirement. Will quit the FBI and took a lucrative teaching position at Johns Hopkins University. He sold his house, found good homes for his dogs, asked Alana to take in Winston until Will could retrieve him, and moved into Hannibal’s gothic mansion. He moved his sailboat and docked it at the Harbor. 

 

They agreed that the Ripper would go on hiatus for an undetermined amount of time. 

 

Marrying Hannibal was one way that he could continue to protect him; to show him that despite his initial betrayal, that Will was in it with him, until death. 

 

_ “We’re sending Abigail to a boarding school,” Will said, crossing his arms and staring Hannibal down. “And after that, she’s going to go to college. She deserves to have a normal life after everything that’s happened.”  _

 

_ “I like the international academy in Florence and my Italian has improved a lot while I was at the cliff house,” she said, smiling hopefully at Hannibal. “Please?”  _

 

_ Hannibal caved in, gracefully. “I fear that I will no longer be able to deny either of you anything.”  _

 

_ “Oh really? Can I have a dog?” Will said, raising his eyebrow.  _

 

_ “While my compassion for you is inconvenient, my patience has a limit,” Hannibal said, staring at him.  _

 

_ Will sighed, wistfully. Maybe someday.  _

 

Everything clicked into place. He watched as Hannibal settled into accepting Will, anticipation making him a warm and attentive partner and husband, the dark looks that Hannibal cast his way, watching for Will to finally emerge from his chrysalis. And in turn, Will slowly looked inside of himself to those dark places that he had denied for so long, saw his hands drenched in the blood of his own designs.  

 

They shared in it together; turning to the one other person who could possibly understand. Hannibal smiled, his face etched with immeasurable pleasure. Will didn’t want to deny him anything. 

 

So why the hell was their sex life so terribly dull? 

 

*** 

 

_ “Yes...good...good...yes…”  _

 

Whenever Hannibal put his mouth on Will’s cock, it felt like he was just doing his husbandly duty, an obligation in the marital bed. Will wondered if Hannibal actually liked doing it. Whenever Will tried to blow him, Hannibal accepted the touch for just a few moments before pulling Will away and distracting him with deep, passionate kisses. Will wasn’t an idiot, he got the message: Hannibal didn’t like the way Will sucked his cock. 

 

He looked down to watch Hannibal’s lips spread wide around Will’s cock, tongue slowly sweeping under the head, the way he hallowed his cheeks when he sucked on the head. 

 

Will closed his eyes and gripped the bedsheets, wriggling his hips a little to tempt Hannibal into touching him. He gasped when he felt Hannibal’s well lubed fingers slip into his ass again, moving in and out gently, fingers searching for his prostate. He tried to help out, arching his hips upwards, but then Hannibal pulled his fingers out, and Will sighed, mostly in frustration. 

 

Hannibal pulled his mouth off his cock and looked up at Will. His face was slightly flushed, lips red and wet, and his ash blond-gray hair falling into his eyes. Will thought he looked best when he was disheveled like this. He smiled, reaching down with his hand to touch Hannibal’s face. 

 

“Why did you stop?” 

 

“I apologize, but I just remembered something,” Hannibal said, looking rather pained. 

 

Will frowned. “What is it?” 

 

“I need to lower the oven temperature on the roast,” Hannibal said, slipping off the bed and pulling on his black robe. “It’s at a critical point in cooking and if I don’t lower the temperature now, the meat will be ruined.” 

 

“What? Seriously?” He said, moving up on his elbows. Was this a fucking joke? 

 

“Just wait for me, a few moments,” Hannibal said, leaning down to stroke Will’s face with the back of his fingers. “Allow the anticipation for pleasure to build. I will only be a few minutes.” 

 

Will sank back on the bed and glared at Hannibal’s back as he left the bedroom. 

 

“Fuck this,” he grumbled, reaching down and curling his hand around his cock. He stroked himself with fast, hard strokes, thinking of how delicious it would be to fuck Hannibal’s mouth the way that he really wanted, to see the tears leaking out of Hannibal’s brown eyes as Will forced his cock deep into Hannibal’s tight throat. He came quick, pleasure slamming into him. He wiped his hand on the sheets and fell asleep without bothering to clean himself up. 

 

*** 

 

Thursday night was their date night. 

 

Will sat across from Hannibal at their dining room table, both of them eating in silence. The only sound was the soft clinks of their silverware on the china. 

 

He knew that something was wrong. Hannibal was rarely silent. He was too charming and too much of a narcissist to have Will’s full attention and not take advantage of it with a story or a metaphor. 

 

Because Hannibal was going to break up with him. Or finally kill and eat him. 

 

_ Two nights ago, while Will and Hannibal were sitting close together on the sofa in front of the fire, both of them engaged in their own readings -- Hannibal on Italian poetry and Will on student papers -- Hannibal’s cellphone rang and he excused himself to take the call privately.   _

 

_ When Hannibal returned to take his place next to Will, he looked up from his papers and said, “is everything okay?”  _

 

_ “Just making an arrangement for a rescheduling,” Hannibal said, his tone letting Will know that it was none of his business.  _

 

Now, when Will looked at his husband, he realized that they had disconnected. Despite how compatible they were in every other aspect of their lives, they weren’t physically compatible. 

 

“You’re quiet tonight,” Will said, softly. 

 

Hannibal met his eyes. “I thought, perhaps, that you would like to take the lead on our conversations.” 

 

Will swallowed dryly and picked up his wine glass, taking a mouthful of the sharp sweetness. “It looks like it might snow this weekend. We may not make it to the farmer’s market.” 

 

“Do you find me so uninteresting that you have devolved to speaking of the weather?” 

 

“I’m not trying to offend you, Hannibal.” 

 

Hannibal set his silverware on his plate gently and placed his hands on the table, sitting up straight and looking at Will. “We have made mutual assurances to try and pass through the refraction of our past, but we have failed each other, so much so that our marriage has become maddeningly polite.” 

 

Will felt his heart lurch. “Are you...rejecting me?” 

 

“No. Never, Will,” he said, frowning. “But I have been waiting for you to tell me that you would like to leave.”  

 

“I don’t want that.” 

 

“Then please tell me what it is that you want?” 

 

“Why don’t  **you** tell me what you want!” 

 

They stared at each other in silence. Will realized that he was clutching his dinner knife in his hand while Hannibal’s fingers were reaching for his own knife. 

 

He dropped his knife, clattering loudly on the plate. Hannibal stared at it in disapproval. 

 

“Really? That’s what you’re going to get upset over?” 

 

“The vintage  _ Noritake  _ bone china is a particularly fine set that is no longer manufactured. It would be impossible to try and replace the set and it is my favorite one,” Hannibal said, reasonably. 

 

Will rolled his eyes, but he set his fork down gently on his plate. Hannibal smiled at him with grateful approval. 

 

“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want a divorce. I don’t...I don’t know what’s wrong with us.” 

 

That seemed to ease something on Hannibal’s face. 

 

“I had hoped that you would want to remain with me,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I have made arrangements to speak to a therapist specializing on issues of intimacy and sexual dysfunction.” 

 

Will blinked and then opened his mouth. “Uhhhh...okay?” 

 

“I originally intended to attend the sessions alone. I didn’t think you would have any interest in therapy.” 

 

“When’s the appointment?”

 

“Tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock. I would very much like it if you attended it with me, Will.” 

 

He nodded, a little desperately. “I’ll be there.” 

 

*** 

 

Will was feeling a little nervous and a little excited as Hannibal parked the car on the driveway of a lovely cottage house with tall windows. 

 

“You know, no one actually has a relationship like ours,” Will said, getting out of the car and smiling coyly at Hannibal. “How are we going to explain it to the therapist?” 

 

Hannibal took his hand as they walked up to the front door. “She is quite well versed in the unconventional. I would not put either of us at risk, just so we can learn how to better communicate with each other.” 

 

He rang the doorbell. 

 

“I forgot to ask, what’s the doctor’s name?” 

 

The door opened and Will had to fight his urge to strangle the woman standing in front of them. 

 

“Hello, Will. Hello, Hannibal.” 

 

“Good afternoon, Bedelia,” Hannibal said, cordially. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.” 

 

“Please come in,” she said, opening the door wider and inviting them inside. 

 

“What the hell?” Will said, turning to glare at Hannibal. “Are you kidding me?” 

 

“Will, please,” Hannibal said, warningly. “We needn’t make a spectacle of ourselves before we even have a chance to speak to Bedelia about our problems.” 

 

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re the fucking problem,” he hissed. 

 

“I see that we have a lot of ground to cover,” Bedelia said, walking into the living room. “Please, come and sit down, both of you.” 

 

Hannibal removed his overcoat and stepped into the living room. Will followed, frowning deeply as he watched as Hannibal sat down on the loveseat and Bedelia sat down in her armchair, which was set across from the small couch. Will kept his coat on and sat on the loveseat, but as far away from Hannibal as the couch allowed. 

 

“I just want to say that this is totally inappropriate,” Will said, grumpily. “And I can’t believe you told  **her** about our...issues!” 

 

“Dr. Du Maurier is an excellent psychiatrist and is quite respected in the field of relational intimacy and sexual dysfunction.” 

 

“You had an affair with her when we were separated!” 

 

Hannibal looked at him, nonplussed. “I did consider asking Dr. Alana Bloom to be our therapist.” 

 

“Great. Another psychiatrist you had an affair with,” he said, spitefully. “Is there a psychiatrist in the greater Baltimore area that you haven’t slept with?” 

 

Hannibal gave him a very angry look. Will would probably pay for that later, but he didn’t care. 

 

“I understand that you are feeling disagreeable with me, Will, but can you try to be civil?” 

 

“Civil!” Will shouted, turning towards Hannibal. “Don’t you dare play the victim here! You--” 

 

“Perhaps we can begin with why you are seeking counseling?” Bedelia said, placing her notepad on her lap and picking up her pen. 

 

“Aren’t there rules against engaging the services of a mental health professional that you have a personal relationship with?” 

 

“I admit that this session is unconventional, but I am no longer practicing. This is a favor for a professional colleague,” Bedelia said, trying to soothe Will’s ruffled feathers. “After speaking with Hannibal, we felt that we could put our past behind us so that you and Hannibal can--” 

 

“Out of professional curiosity, on a scale of 0 to 10, how would rate my husband in the sack, Bedelia?” Will said, meanly. 

 

“I don’t think that is appropriate--” 

 

Fuck being appropriate. Hannibal was probably going to skin him alive when they got home, so Will might as well enjoy this as much as possible. 

 

“Let’s start at 5. Was he a 5 in the sack? Higher or lower?” 

 

Will could feel Hannibal tense up beside him and he gave a cruel smile, seeing the discomfort on Bedelia’s face. 

 

“Will, I really must protest.” 

 

“From the look on your face, I’d say lower,” Will said, ignoring Hannibal’s protest. 

 

He did have to give Bedelia points for keeping her composure. She merely looked at Will with an impassive but curious expression. 

 

“I believe we should move on to a different topic.” 

 

“You’d think with his particular oral fixation that he’d enjoy using his mouth a lot more,” Will said, sitting back on the loveseat as both Hannibal and Bedelia looked painfully uncomfortable. “All right, let’s talk about our sex life, shall we?” 

 

*** 

 

“That went well, what do you think?” 

 

Hannibal’s hands gripped the steering wheel. Will smirked to himself, thinking that Hannibal would probably like nothing more than to wrap his hands around Will’s neck right about now. 

 

The hour long drive home was filled with tense silence. 

 

*** 

 

“I think that I will use the guest room tonight,” Hannibal said, as he finished changing into his silk pajamas. 

 

Will crawled into bed in his boxers and tee-shirt. “Suit yourself.” 

 

*** 

 

Will paced around Bedelia’s living room, looking at various knick knacks, and looking at her collection of artwork. Hannibal sat on the loveseat in his usual spot and Bedelia sat in her chair, notepad on her lap. Will noted that she actually didn’t take any notes during their sessions. He thought that she used it as a barrier between them, trying to be mindful of their bizarre therapist-patient relationship. 

 

“How many times a week do you masturbate?” 

 

“I rarely indulge in self pleasure. I have a little more self control than that.” 

 

Will snorted, leaning over the back of the unused armchair. “Self control. Yes, let’s not forget about Hannibal’s indomitable self control.” 

 

Hannibal pressed his lips into a thin line, but he didn’t say anything. 

 

“Will?” 

 

Will sighed, shrugging. “Six or seven times a week. Sometimes more. Last month, Hannibal was at a ‘gourmet food conference’” -- he used air quotes and rolled his eyes -- “and was gone for two days, so I probably masturbated about eight times that whole weekend. I got a hand cramp and had to wear a wrist brace for a week.” 

 

Hannibal seemed surprised. “You told me that you injured your hand while fixing the motor on your sailboat.” 

 

“I did hurt my hand fixing the motor. It cramped up at the wrong time, probably because it was already sore from all the jerking off I did. But you lied to me when you said that you went to a ‘gourmet food conference.’ You want to tell me what --  _ or who _ \-- you were really cooking up?” 

 

Bedelia cocked her head. “Do you have trust issues with Hannibal in regards to his extracurricular activities?” 

 

Will stood up and sat down in the armchair, crossing his leg over his knee as he gazed at the both of them. “Let’s not bullshit and pretend that we don’t know about Hannibal’s ‘extracurricular’ activities. I don’t have any issue with them. In fact, I’m more than happy to indulge him.” 

 

“And yourself,” Hannibal said, his lips twitching slightly with pride. 

 

“Yes,” he said, agreeing. A part of him was smug when he saw Bedelia pale slightly at his admission. “We agreed that you would temporarily halt your extracurricular activities, but we both know that you went on a hunt. I don’t like being lied to.” 

 

“I did not lie to you, Will. Not directly.” 

 

“A sin of omission is still a lie,” he said, staring at Hannibal.   

 

Hannibal nodded, accepting Will’s censure. “We have an understanding of each other’s minds. We’re just alike. This gives you the capacity to deceive me, and be deceived by me. But it also gives you the ability to know when you are being deceived. I apologize, Will.” 

 

“Don’t lie to me again.” 

 

The silence between them held for a long moment, but Will felt like they finally had a breakthrough. 

 

“As part of your homework for this week, I would like you to use this newfound transparency and masturbate in front of each other,” Bedelia said, gazing at them. “Tell each other what you feel and think during the act. Help each other see what brings you the most pleasure.” 

 

Hannibal smiled at Bedelia as he stood up, holding his hand out to Will. “We will see you next Tuesday.” 

 

Will took his hand, feeling the strength of Hannibal’s touch. He wanted to feel it on other parts of his body. 

 

*** 

 

“Just sit there and watch,” Will said, pushing Hannibal into the plush green velvet armchair across from the couch. He had turned off the lights and lit the fire in the fireplace, giving the room a warm and cozy glow. 

 

Hannibal crossed his leg and sat back in the chair, relaxed, his eyes glittering from the light of the fire. “Unbutton your shirt and pants, but keep your clothes on.” 

 

Will smirked, doing as Hannibal said, and squeezed the thick lube into the palm of his hand. 

 

He took a deep breath and sighed, curling his hand around his already hard cock, stroking himself slowly. He let out a soft moan, playing it up a little for Hannibal, and smiled when he saw Hannibal grin knowingly. 

 

“What do you think about when you touch yourself?” 

 

“Sometimes, it’s to just get off,” Will said, looking down at his own body, as his thumb brushed over the head to collect the pre-come from his slit. His eyes lowered, feeling slow and thick, warmed from the fire. “I just do it quick, hard and fast.” 

 

He showed Hannibal what that was like and he groaned, feeling the pleasure ratchet up in his belly. 

 

“But then sometimes, I want to take my time and draw it out,” he said, angling his face so that he could look at Hannibal, sitting in the armchair, so calm and composed, but his eyes were greedy for Will. He slowed his hand, stroking up and down, teasing himself and drawing it out. “I think about you.” 

 

“What are you doing to me in your fantasies?” 

 

Will chuckled, quickening his hand. “Sometimes...sometimes, I’m hurting you. Being rough with you. Making you take it. Making you want more. Making you choke on my cock.” 

 

“Do you use your hands on me?” 

 

“Always,” he said, gasping. “It’s more...intimate. You deserve nothing less  _ oh fuck, fuck, Hannibal _ .” 

 

He came hard, pulsing in the twist of his hand, come dripping onto his stomach. He panted hard and opened his eyes to look at Hannibal. 

 

Hannibal looked like he wanted to cut him apart and eat him. Will liked that look on him. 

 

“How did that make you feel?” 

 

Hannibal licked his lips. “It made me feel like I could taste your devotion to me.” 

 

Will sighed and then laughed, sinking back into the couch, wiping his hand on his shirt. He could feel Hannibal’s displeasure without even looking at him.  

 

“There are tissues on the table beside you,” he said, exasperated. 

 

“Just be glad that I used the shirt and not the couch,” Will said, laughing at the disgruntled look on Hannibal’s face. 

 

*** 

 

Bedelia opened the front door, unsurprised to see him there. 

 

“Hannibal doesn’t know I’m here,” Will said, giving her a wry grin. 

 

“Come in, Will.” 

 

He sighed, walking into her house. She led him to the living room and sat down in her usual armchair. Will took the armchair next to hers. 

 

“I suppose you are here visiting Hannibal’s old flame and not your therapist,” she said, blandly. 

 

“I want to know about your affair with him.” 

 

She gave him a long, unreadable look. “What will you gain knowing about the affair?” 

 

“What was he like with you?” 

 

“My relationship with Hannibal wasn’t as passionate as yours,” she said, simply. “You call it an affair, but I believe that it was covert therapy. Hannibal is a man with great empathy, but he has never used it in the manner that he uses it with you.” 

 

Will snorted, disbelievingly. “I’m covered in scars from his empathy.” 

 

“His marks of possession on you began from the moment you first met.” 

 

“Why did you take him as a lover if...if you knew that you had more to lose than to gain from his attention?” He said, cocking his head and looking at her curiously. 

 

Bedelia gave him a knowing smirk. “I could ask the same of you.” 

 

“You wanted to be Bluebeard’s wife.” 

 

She scoffed, rudely. “ **You** are Bluebeard’s wife. Let’s hope that you are the last and not the one buried in his basement.” 

 

“He really does love me, doesn’t he?” 

 

“Do you believe that he would show himself in his weakness for anyone else but you?” 

 

Will chuckled, shaking his head. “Somedays, I think he looks at me and really wishes that he could cut open my head and eat me.” 

 

“Perhaps the only way to sate your appetites is to feed on each other,” she said, slyly. 

 

Bedelia wasn’t his favorite person in the world, but she was smart and as cunning, a predator to respect. She wasn’t in the same league as Hannibal, but Will could respect what she was. She walked him to her front door to see him out. 

 

“Will, I would rate him a 7,” she said, smiling as she shut the door in his face, engaging all the locks. 

 

He stared at the door, fury and jealousy spiking through him, but he let out a breath and laughed instead. She had balls of steel and he respected that. 

 

*** 

 

“May I ask for something from you tonight, Will?” 

 

Will pulled the covers over him and he looked at Hannibal, raising his eyebrows. “Uh, yeah, okay. It’s your turn tonight, right?” 

 

“I would like for you to pretend that you are having a seizure,” he said, softly. 

 

“Did it turn you on when I was suffering from the Encephalitis?” 

 

Hannibal gave him a soft smile. “It wasn’t only your suffering. It was your dependency on me.” 

 

Will took a deep breath and settled into the bed. He closed his eyes and heard Hannibal turn off the bedside lamp, his knees on the bed. 

 

“Okay, shit, let me try to do this,” he said, breathing heavily and moving his body into convulsions. He could feel the bed shaking and could hear the slick wetness of Hannibal stroking his cock. 

 

“I think about that night that you came to my house,” Hannibal said, his voice low and husky with lust. “Do you remember the things you said? Say the words.” 

 

“Please,” Will said, whispering. “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

 

“Yes,” Hannibal hissed, his breathing becoming louder. 

 

“Please don’t lie to me.” 

 

“Tell me.” 

 

“What’s happening to me?” 

 

“Will,” Hannibal said, moaning quietly and desperately. 

 

“I’m having a hard time thinking.” 

 

_ “Will!”  _

 

“I feel like I’m losing my mind.” 

 

He felt Hannibal move over him, one hand on Will’s forehead, holding his head back. 

 

“I don’t know what’s real.” 

 

Hannibal groaned and Will could smell him now, feel the heat of his come as it dripped on his face. Will opened his eyes and looked up to see Hannibal staring down at him, eyes so dilated that they were black. He licked the come on his lips. 

 

“I have never wanted anyone more,” Hannibal said, moving down on top of Will, licking his face and kissing his mouth. 

 

Will gasped into Hannibal’s mouth, trying to keep up with the fierceness of Hannibal’s kisses, nipping his lips, his chin, his neck. He slid down Will’s body and jerked down his boxers, mouth hot and wet as it covered the head, sucking him fast and hard. 

 

“Hannibal!” Will said, reaching down to grab a handful of Hannibal’s soft hair, thrusting his cock into Hannibal’s welcoming mouth. “Fuck! Yes, don’t stop!” 

 

In the darkness of their room, the wet choking sounds was erotic and reminded Will of the sound that a knife made as it disgorge flesh; Hannibal’s gasps and the filthy squelch of his cock moving deeper into Hannibal’s throat. Will came, biting his bottom lip so hard that he tasted his own blood, and held Hannibal’s head down, pressing Hannibal’s nose against his pubes as he emptied into the clenching rhythm of his throat muscles trying to expel him before he was finished. 

 

Will released Hannibal and felt him pull off Will’s cock with a hard cough, falling on the bed beside him. They were both panting, Hannibal’s breaths sounding wet and pained. Will turned and wrapped his arms and legs around Hannibal, pressing his forehead against Hannibal’s shoulder, tucked close against him. 

 

“That was,” Hannibal began, clearing his throat. “That was...immensely pleasurable.” 

 

Will chuckled, kissing Hannibal’s throat. “I feel like I should say sorry for being so rough, but it felt too good to feel guilty about hurting you.” 

 

Hannibal held him tight, his hand moving into the thickness of Will’s hair. He swallowed a few times, doing a self check on his own condition, and let out a soft sigh that sounded content and pleased. 

 

“I am more than happy to try that again another time,” he said, his voice sound a little rough. 

 

“Well, at least we can report back to Bedelia that our homework was successful.” Will said, smugly. 

 

“Indeed.” 

 

*** 

 

“How do you approach foreplay in your sexual relationship?” 

 

Will sat next to Hannibal on the loveseat, his pinky caressing the side of Hannibal’s leg. The last three months had really changed things in their relationship. Will flirted with Hannibal and Hannibal tempted him with delicious foods and seduced his intellectual curiosity. They talked a lot more, setting some of the metaphorical eloquence aside, and tried to give each other pleasure. They hadn’t had penetrative sex in a long time, but Will was kind of enjoying all the other things that they did. 

 

“We don’t really do foreplay. We just...have sex.” 

 

“Do you think that foreplay isn’t important in your sexual relationship?” Bedelia said, looking at Will. 

 

Will looked at Hannibal and then took a deep breath. “Is it something that we need?” 

 

“I like to begin with planning our dinner,” Hannibal said, moving his leg a little closer to Will’s hand. 

 

“That’s your idea of foreplay?” Will said, making a face. “It takes like three hours and you make me sit in the dining room. How is that foreplay?” 

 

Bedelia made a quizzical noise. 

 

“He won’t let me in the kitchen,” he said, clarifying for her. 

 

“Only because of what happened the last time you attempted to assist me in the making of our feast.” 

 

“May I ask what happened?” 

 

Will groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I broke one of his ovens.” 

 

“The  _ La Cornue Grand Palais _ gas range has a base price of $47,000, Will. And the one that I had in my kitchen was custom made for me.” 

 

“You’d think that if something costs that much that it would be a hell of a lot more durable,” he said, making a face. “Is everything about money to you, Hannibal? Is this because I make less than you? I’m always going to make less than you. If this is a problem, we can split our expenses.” 

 

“Of course not, but I find it incredibly rude that you don’t often respect the value of some of our things.” 

 

“Our things? They’re  **your** things.” Will moved away from him and glared at him. “They’re just things, Hannibal. I don’t care about material things. I don’t care if we eat off bone china or paper plates!” 

 

“You cannot blame me for the wealth that I inherited,” Hannibal said, blandly. 

 

“I don’t know why I’m not allowed to have a dog!” 

 

Hannibal stared at him for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing. 

 

“I think we’re getting a little off track here,” Bedelia said, kindly. “Will, why don’t you talk about a possible approach to foreplay that you could incorporate with your husband?” 

 

Will glared at him and moved even further away from him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “He likes it when I pretend to have a seizure; and then he comes on my face.” 

 

Hannibal closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. 

 

*** 

 

Will unbuttoned his shirt in their large dressing room. “Abigail should be home in two weeks. I thought we could go somewhere together over the summer.” 

 

Hannibal changed into his silk pajamas. “I would like that very much. Did you have something in mind?” 

 

“Maybe we can take the boat out, sail up the coast,” he said, wearily. He slipped out of his pants and socks, putting his clothes into his hamper. 

 

“Will,” Hannibal said, softly. “Did you enjoy dinner tonight?” 

 

“Sure, it was great, as usual,” he said, walking out of the dressing room and towards his side of the bed. 

 

“I thought that we could be intimate tonight.” 

 

“I’m a little tired,” he said, turning on his side, his back to Hannibal. “Goodnight.” 

 

“As I am not tired, I will be in the sitting room for a little bit.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

*** 

 

“I would like to begin hunting again,” Hannibal said, sitting across from Will in their sitting room. 

 

Will looked up from his book. “Is there someone in particular that you would like to kill?” 

 

“I have a rolodex of pigs that we could choose from.” 

 

“No, Hannibal, just because someone is rude to you doesn’t mean that they should be the bacon on our plates,” he said, taking a deep breath. “If we’re to hunt, I would prefer that we hunt those who deserve our type of attention.” 

 

Hannibal’s dark eyes glittered with pleasure. “Then I shall find an appropriately offensive pig who would meet your requirements.” 

 

“Okay,” Will said, smiling slightly. 

 

“Would you join me on the hunt and at the table?” 

 

Will met Hannibal’s eyes. “Of course.” 

 

*** 

 

Will pulled out the large trash bag from inside the trash drawer. Hannibal walked into the kitchen, putting his leather portfolio on the counter. 

 

“Hey,” he said, tying off the trash bag carefully. “Trash night.” 

 

“Thank you,” Hannibal said, watching him. He inhaled deeply and smiled. “You made your jambalaya.” 

 

“Yeah, and I didn’t burn down any of the appliances,” he said, gently teasing. “I left your dinner warming in the oven.” 

 

“Are you not doing to dine with me?” 

 

Will looked up and gave Hannibal a smile. “I’m meeting my colleagues from the university. Sorry for the last minute change in plans.” 

 

“I see,” Hannibal said, walking to the oven and opening the door, looking at the neatly placed casserole dish on the rack. “Thank you for dinner and have a good evening with your friends.” 

 

“Sure,” Will said, taking the trash out the side door to the bins. He placed the trash bag in the regular trash bin, checked the recycle bin, and pulled them both down the driveway to the curb. 

 

Hannibal had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves by the time Will returned to the kitchen, closing the door behind him. He walked to the sink and washed his hands, drying them on a towel. He folded the towel neatly and set it on the counter. Hannibal leaned against the counter, watching him thoughtfully. 

 

“See you later, I won’t be out too late,” Will said, walking past him. 

 

Hannibal reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him. Will turned and looked at him, quizzically. The kiss was a surprise, but it felt nice. He smiled at Hannibal, patting his shoulder. 

 

“Goodnight.” 

 

*** 

 

It was great to have Abigail home. She brought such happiness and energy into the house, filling the quiet spaces with her youth and noise and life. Her easy affection towards both Will and Hannibal pulled them out of their gloomy moods; and her excitement to travel on his sailboat was infectious and genuine. 

 

Hannibal was down in the galley, fixing their lunch, while Will stood at the helm, keeping an eye on navigation and the direction of the wind and the sails. They cut the motor to conserve fuel, taking advantage of the winds as they moved up the Atlantic. 

 

Abigail came up the steps and made her way to Will, sitting down next to him. “Tonight, will you show me how to navigate by the stars?” 

 

Will smiled, nodding. “Sure. The summer skies usually have the brightest stars.” 

 

“So...how are things with Hannibal?” 

 

He blinked and let out a soft laugh. “We’re fine.” 

 

“He says that you guys have been going to couples therapy,” she said, looking at him with concerned eyes. “But you’re not happy. Neither is he, in case you were wondering, but he won’t say it.” 

 

“We have a lot of things to work through,” he said, sitting in his chair and putting his feet on the dash. He grinned when Abigail did the same. 

 

“Don’t get divorced, okay?” 

 

“We’re not getting divorced.” 

 

He was pretty sure that they weren’t getting divorced. There was only one end to their marriage. Death. 

 

Abigail bit her lip and nodded. “Don’t kill him then.” 

 

Will chuckled, looking at her. “We’re not a normal family.” 

 

“But it is  **our** family,” she said, wisely. “I’m only here for a few weeks and I’d like to see the two of you happy.” 

 

“Sure.” 

 

She gave him a very shrewd look. “Hannibal promised that he would try to make you happy. You know how he is about his promises.” 

 

Will nodded, feeling a little easier. “Okay. I promise, too.” 

 

*** 

 

It was one of the best vacations Will had ever had. They had sailed up the coast, stopping at various ports to replenish their supplies and refuel. Hannibal found fresh produce and meats; Will took Abigail fishing. Sometimes, the three of them would explore the city, enjoying each other’s company and just walking around like tourists. 

 

So when they finally returned to Baltimore, Will felt a little sad being back on land again. It was like as soon as they walked into the house, all of their problems and issues enclosed around them, drowning him under the deluge of promises not kept. 

 

Bedelia stared at the two of them, sitting quietly on the loveseat. “I feel like we have taken a major step backwards in the state of your relationship, but I don’t know why. Has something changed so drastically that you both feel at a loss of what to do?” 

 

“I cannot recall a trigger. To be frank, it happened so gradually, neither of us noticed it.” 

 

Will cupped his hand on his cheek and nodded, thoughtfully, as he leaned his arm against the loveseat. “Yeah, it just...we didn’t have anything to talk about.” 

 

“When was the last time you engaged in sexual intercourse?” 

 

He and Hannibal exchanged looks. “Six months ago?” 

 

“Around the time of our one year anniversary.” 

 

“But you have sexual relations with each other?” 

 

“It’s been a few weeks,” Will admitted, when Hannibal refused to say anything. 

 

“How many times a week do you masturbate?” 

 

Will laughed, mirthlessly. “Two? Maybe three?” 

 

“Sixteen.” 

 

Will and Bedelia turned to stare at Hannibal. 

 

Bedelia gave Will a look of displeasure; and he felt offended by that, like he was the one doing something wrong. 

 

“Hannibal, on a scale of 0 to 10, how would you rate having penetrative sexual intercourse with your husband?” 

 

“What the fuck, Bedelia!” Will shouted, staring at her. 

 

“Two,” Hannibal said, perfectly calm. 

 

“Fuck you, Hannibal,” Will said, getting to his feet and snatching his jacket from the chair as he slammed the door behind him, leaving the house. 

 

He stood by the car, hands shoved into his pockets, waiting for Hannibal to leave. If he wasn’t out in ten minutes, Will would call a fucking cab to pick him up. 

 

*** 

 

Will walked into their bedroom and closed the door behind him. Hannibal was sitting in one of the velvet chairs by the fireplace, looking into the fire with a closed off expression on his face. Will thought that he looked beautiful in the fire light, his hair looked like flames, his high cheekbones looked extra sharp. Hannibal didn’t have any softness to him; and he was just as sharp and as prickly as Will. 

 

“I had thought you returned home ahead of me, but when you weren’t here, I checked the GPS on your phone,” Hannibal said, softly. “Did you enjoy spending time with Alana?” 

 

“I went to see Winston,” he said, taking off his jacket and tossing it into the dressing room. He knew Hannibal hated it when he did that. “And yeah, it was good to see Alana.” 

 

Hannibal turned and looked at him. “I am not easily manipulated by jealousy, Will. You could’ve easily just texted me that you were going to see our friend.” 

 

Will smirked, sitting on the bed and kicking off his shoes. “You present a lot of the signs of a jealous husband, Hannibal.” 

 

Hannibal got to his feet and walked around the bed towards Will, standing directly in front of him. Will leaned back on his hands and stared up at Hannibal, his smirk becoming cruel and ugly when he saw that Hannibal was hard under his trousers. 

 

“What’s got you to hot and bothered, huh?” He said, jokingly. “You couldn’t possibly want to have penetrative sexual intercourse with me when I only rate a two.” 

 

“You are a silly, cruel boy,” Hannibal said, his voice low and husky. 

 

“Look, it’s been a hell of a long day for both of us,” Will said, emotionally wrung out and annoyed. “Just go to bed and we can talk about it later.” 

 

“I think not,” Hannibal said, pushing Will down on his back and grabbing his wrists, holding them down by his head. 

 

Will frowned, meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “Seriously? We’re going to do this?” 

 

“I am going to do to you what I should’ve done from the very first.” 

 

Will laughed in his face. “I see. You’re going to manipulate me and try to dominate me, wind me up and see me go? We already did that. Neither of us liked it.” 

 

Hannibal kissed him, biting at Will’s lips. 

 

“Hey! Cut it out!” Will said, jerking away from him. He tried to pull his wrists out of Hannibal’s hold, wriggling against the bed to try and move him off. “Get off me, Hannibal.” 

 

Hannibal grinned, nasty and smug. “Make me.” 

 

“Don’t be so fucking juvenile!” Will hissed at him, trying to use his legs to kick him off. 

 

They were well matched, but Hannibal probably had about ten pounds of muscle on him. Will would never underestimate him; his husband was the Chesapeake Ripper who had the strength and will to move deadweight bodies around the goddamn city without ever getting caught. But Will remembered his fight training as a cop; and he grew up poor and knew how to fight dirty. 

 

Hannibal chuckled, anticipating all of Will’s offensive attacks, and blocking them. Will was panting from exertion and found himself pinned under Hannibal’s warm weight, the heat of his hard cock pressing against Will’s thigh. 

 

“Are you ready to submit to my dominance now?” 

 

“Fuck you.” 

 

Hannibal nipped his earlobe and laughed darkly. “Yes, I do welcome you to fuck me, but tonight, I am going to fuck you, my darling, cruel boy.” 

 

He kissed Will again, clever tongue slipping into Will’s mouth to taste him, and Will moaned, thrilled to hear the dark promise in Hannibal’s voice. He wanted it, too, but he wasn’t going to just lay back and take it. He felt Hannibal release his wrists, fingers tangling with Will’s, and Will bit down hard on Hannibal’s bottom lip, drawing blood with his sharp teeth, curling his legs around Hannibal’s thighs to hold him in place until Will felt like letting him go. 

 

Will unsnapped his jaw, smiling up at Hannibal with his lips smeared with Hannibal’s blood. He watched as Hannibal drew back, his tongue tracing the swollen flesh of his bottom lip. Will knew that if he had bit down just a little harder, he could’ve taken off a part of Hannibal’s lip. Hannibal’s dark eyes narrowed, the pupils flared red from the light of the fireplace, as he watched Will enjoy the taste of Hannibal’s blood, licking his lips and baring his teeth. 

 

“Oh, Will,” Hannibal whispered, reverently. “I have waited for you for a long time. Do you see?” 

 

“Show me,” he said, giving himself over to Hannibal. “Fuck me.” 

 

There was a flurry of movement as Hannibal ripped open his shirt and his pants, grabbing his arm and turning him on his belly, jerking down his pants and his boxers to his knees. Will heard the snap of the lube lid open and he grabbed handfuls of the soft duvet cover, looking over his shoulder as Hannibal stroked the lube on his cock as he stared down at Will. 

 

He grabbed Will by the hips, jerking him up, and Will barely muffled his scream into the bedding when he felt Hannibal’s cock breech him. A strong hand pressed down on the back of his neck, another on his shoulder, as Hannibal fucked him with long, hard thrusts. 

 

The pleasure echoed alongside the dull throb of stretched muscles, and Will moaned into the mattress, unable to do anything but lie there and take it. He drooled against the duvet, tasting blood and spit and silky fleece. Hannibal grunted with each thrust and Will arched his lower back, tilting his hips back, so that the next time Hannibal thrust into him, he went a little deeper, and they both moaned in the pleasure of it. 

 

Hannibal let go of his neck, his hand dragging into Will’s hair and pulling his head back and off the bed. 

 

_ “Hannibal!”  _

 

“This is what I’ve always wanted with you,” Hannibal said, dangerous and low. 

 

“Why didn’t you?” 

 

“Why didn’t  **you** !” Hannibal hissed, dropping Will’s head to the bed, holding him down, his fingers fisting his hair. 

 

“Oh God, I’m going to come,” Will said, whimpering from the intensity of the pleasure building somewhere in his brain. “Hannibal, I’m going to come!” 

 

“Not. Yet.” 

 

Hannibal stopped and pulled his cock out of Will. He stripped Will’s pants and boxers off of him and pushed him on his back. He grabbed Will’s hips and pulled him to the edge of the bed, hands tucked firmly behind Will’s knees, pushing his legs back and opening him up to Hannibal’s eyes and to Hannibal’s cock. 

 

He slipped back into Will and Will groaned, flinging his head back and arching his neck. 

 

“Fuck!” Will shouted, hands grabbing for the bedding. It felt like he was feverish again, like electricity was coursing through his body, from his cock to his brain to his toes. “Hannibal! Please!” 

 

Hannibal gave a dark smile, one hand reaching down to curl around Will’s throat, blocking his breath. Will opened his eyes wide, staring up at him, feeling the rush of blood filling his face and head as Hannibal choked him. He whined, using up his breath, as Hannibal continued to fuck him, eyes gleaming as he watched Will struggle. 

 

“I think about that night in my kitchen when you confessed all of your sins,” Hannibal said, looking into Will’s eyes. “How I was going to punish you, spill your guts on my kitchen floor and leave you, abandon you the way that you planned to abandon me.” 

 

Will groaned, breathlessly, feeling lightheaded, his eyes blinking rapidly. His lips felt numb, his eyes bulged under the pressure, rolling up under his eyelids. 

 

“I’ve thought about what you would sound like with my knife slicing you open,” he said, breathing harshly through his nose. “If you would beg me to finish you off.” 

 

“Please...please…” Will mouthed at Hannibal, his body close, so close to coming, so close to dying. 

 

“It would’ve been so beautiful, for both of us.” 

 

Hannibal released his hold on Will’s neck as precious air filled Will’s lungs, blood rushing through his body as pleasure overwhelmed him. 

 

“Hannibal!” Will screamed, choking on his own breath as his entire body bucked against Hannibal, his cock pulsing with come, untouched. 

 

He felt Hannibal jerk against him, his cock thrust into him with sharp, hard pulses. Hannibal groaned against Will’s neck, his hands gripping Will’s hair and turning his head to bare his neck to Hannibal’s mouth, to his sharp teeth. 

 

Will felt like he came a second time as Hannibal bit into his neck, the metallic smell of his blood in his nose. When Hannibal kissed him, he sucked on the swollen part of his lip, sucking out his blood, nipping at it teasingly until he heard Hannibal moan in pain...and in pleasure. 

 

He collapsed over Will, breathlessly, his weight keeping Will down. 

 

“Fuck,” Will whispered, his voice feeling raw from all the moaning and screaming. “Oh fuck, Hannibal, fuck.” 

 

“Indeed,” Hannibal mumbled, taking a deep breath. 

 

“We’re going to end up killing each other if we keep having sex like this,” Will said, laughing in disbelief. 

 

“It’s my biggest fear,” Hannibal said, softly. “I didn’t know how to bring it up without chasing you away.” 

 

“No one is going to kill the other for this kind of sex,” he said, stubbornly. “We’ll just have to do a better job of talking about it beforehand, you know, like limits and things like that.” 

 

Hannibal moved carefully off of Will, his hand touching his bite mark and the bruises around Will’s neck. 

 

“I feel that I should apologize for leaving these marks and causing you pain, but it would be disingenuous,” Hannibal said, repeating something Will had once said to Hannibal. “I like nothing more than to see my marks on you. Are you in any pain?” 

 

Will smiled, rolling his eyes. “About as much pain as you must be with that swollen lip.” 

 

“Once the endorphin rush recedes, we may need some minor medical attention,” Hannibal said, sighing contentedly and falling back against the bed. “I need to clean all of our wounds to prevent the possibility of infection. The human mouth contains bacteria such as Staphylococcus, Streptococcus, and E Coli, all of which could cause infections in the bite wounds.” 

 

“Okay, way to ruin the afterglow, Dr. Lecter,” Will said, teasingly. 

 

Hannibal stroked his hand across Will’s chest. “You are so important to me. I would not want to do anything that couldn’t be undone.” 

 

Will stared up at the high ceiling, his fingers curling around his hair. “If it’s going to be blood and pain, then we should probably work on some controlled experiments.” 

 

He knew that would get Hannibal’s attention and he smirked, turning his head to look at Hannibal. 

 

“Ahh...you’re seducing me with the scientific method,” Hannibal said, smiling at him. 

 

“Well, any good experiment worth its weight needs to be replicated in a controlled, scientific manner.” 

 

“You are a clever, beautiful boy.” 

 

*** 

 

Later, after Hannibal cleaned them up and bandaged their wounds, Will’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. 

 

It was nearly three in the morning; there was no one who needed to text him at such an hour. He picked up his phone and opened the text message, smiling as he looked at the screen. 

 

“What is it?” Hannibal said, coming out of the bathroom wearing just his pajama pants. 

 

“Abigail,” he said, holding up the phone so that Hannibal could read the short message. 

 

_ Abigail: I don’t need details. Just please tell me that you are both still alive.  _

 

“I suppose it is our duty as her guardians to reassure her of our well being,” Hannibal said, nonplussed. 

 

_ Will: We are alive. Goodnight.  _

 

He tossed his phone on his bedside table and got into bed, curling up against Hannibal. 

 

“We should probably buy her some noise cancelling headphones,” Will said, smiling. “Jesus, I’m too old to be blushing.” 

 

“I will have our bedroom soundproofed,” Hannibal said, calmly. “I would like to hear you uninhibited and screaming for me as often as I can.” 

 

Will pressed his face into his pillow and laughed. 

 

*** 

 

Will watched as Hannibal sliced through the flesh, pulling back the edges to reach in and find the organs that he wanted. The man made desperate, high-pitched whines in his throat as he tried to escape from the leather straps holding him on the operating table. 

 

“I think I shall make you a lomo saltado,” Hannibal said, smiling winsomely at Will. “It’s a Peruvian dish, quite common, but flavorful.” 

 

“Will it go with that red wine that I bought?” 

 

Hannibal met his eyes. “Yes. Tomorrow night, I will serve you liver and sweetbreads soaked in buttermilk.” 

 

“I’ve never had sweetbreads before,” he said, watching as Hannibal harvested the pancreas. 

 

He held up the small, shiny organ to show Will. “Luckily for us, it is in perfect condition.” 

 

Will looked at the man as his body stopped moving. “I think he’s probably going into shock.” 

 

“Yes, I expect that he will die in approximately three minutes.” 

 

“Better get a move on if you’re going to take anything else from him,” Will said, helping Hannibal gently pack the organs into the cooler. 

 

“Would you take the cooler to the kitchen while I clean up here?”

 

Will leaned across the body and kissed Hannibal’s lips. “Don’t take too long. I’m hungry.” 

 

Hannibal gazed at him, his eyes bright and mouth curved into a pleased smile. “I won’t be long.” 

 

Will licked his lips and picked up the cooler, taking it up the stairs to the secret entrance behind the wine rack in the pantry. 

 

*** 

 

Will bent Hannibal over, keeping his knees tucked under him, chest resting over the pillows stacked under him, as he held Hannibal’s wrists behind his back. He took his time, pressing his cock inside of Hannibal slowly, and then pulling out so that the head was teasing his rim. 

 

_ “Please, darling,” _ Hannibal begged, his voice low and trembling slightly. 

 

Will pushed into Hannibal’s tight warmth again, as deep as he could, and flung his head back as Hannibal clenched his muscles, milking him. 

 

“You feel so good,” Will whispered, letting go of Hannibal’s wrists and running his palms up the long, lean back. “I just want this to last forever.” 

 

Hannibal chuckled softly. “I shall never tease you about your stamina again, cruel boy.” 

 

Will bent over Hannibal’s back and reached under him to curl his hand around his cock, his fingers teasing the foreskin. 

 

“Tell me.” 

 

“I love you.” 

 

“I love you, too,” Will said, chuckling. “But that’s not what I asked. On a scale of 0 to 10, how do I rate?” 

 

Hannibal groaned when Will shifted his hips, changing the angle of his cock inside of him. “Immeasurably, my darling, there’s no possible number that would adequately reflect how well you fuck me.” 

 

Will bit him hard on his shoulder as his reward. 

 

*** 

 

It had been a year since they began their therapy sessions with Bedelia, and in that time, Will reflected that he and Hannibal had crossed the rubicon of their relationship and come out on the other side, stronger and more devoted to each other than before. 

 

“You both look radiant,” Bedelia observed, tilting her head to the side as she looked at them. “It seems that you’ll celebrate your second anniversary in a much different light.” 

 

“I think this is going to be our last session with you,” Will said, smiling as he turned to look at Hannibal. 

 

“We can’t thank you enough, Bedelia,” Hannibal said, taking Will’s hand and kissing the back of it reverently. 

 

“Well, then my work is complete,” she said, closing her notepad and setting it on the coffee table between them. “I would like to wish you all the best.” 

 

“There is just one final detail,” Will said, taking a deep breath and looking at her, expectantly. 

 

“We cannot simply let you live knowing what you know of us,” Hannibal said, conciliatorily. “I did make you a promise, long ago, and I have come to fulfill it.” 

 

Will held her against her chair, one hand around her throat, the other gripping her hair. 

 

“Meat’s back on the table, Bedelia,” he said, somewhat apologetically. She had, afterall, saved their marriage. 

 

He watched as horror and realization filled her eyes as Hannibal administered the sedative, her eyes fluttering for a moment before she fell unconscious. 

 

“But if you play, you pay.” 

 

Will tipped his head back and smiled as Hannibal kissed him. 

 

“I was going to wait until our anniversary, but I find that I cannot contain myself or the surprise,” Hannibal said, as he checked Bedelia’s pulse. 

 

Will took off Bedelia’s shoes, looking up at his husband with a soft laugh. “Okay, tell me.” 

 

“I asked Alana if she would bring Winston to the house,” Hannibal said, smiling at Will. “Afterall, he should be with his rightful owner.” 

 

It took him a moment to comprehend what Hannibal said, and he blinked and met Hannibal’s eyes, saw the pleased smile on his face. 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Happy anniversary, Will.” 

 

He kissed Hannibal as sweetly as he could. “Happy anniversary, Hannibal.” 

  
  
  


**The End.**


End file.
